


Pretty Lethal Thing

by knightinpinkunderwear



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Actual Violence, Black Mailing, Blood, Blood and Gore, Death Threats, Demons, Gore, Homocidal homosexuals, I bet im the only one to use that tag, Occult club, Other, People who need some serious mental help, Threats, Threats of Violence, homocide, suicide?, yandereplier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:12:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinpinkunderwear/pseuds/knightinpinkunderwear
Summary: A series of Yandereplier oneshots. Read all warnings.Keep in mind that I do not condone any of the actions and situations portrayed. If you are in a relationship that in anyway resembles the ones shown I urge you to seek help. Also, keep in mind that these people will not be entirely like their real life counterparts.  I also do not believe the illusion that I have any effect on the love lives of any of these people nor do I believe that I know who they should hang out with/date. The people depicted are, yes, people and I do not mean to disrespect or bother them, I just want to write stories about a lovesick homicidal maniac, becuase frankly if I tried to make a character up like that I would be told "you just stole the yandere thing".That being said, enjoy.





	Pretty Lethal Thing

Being in love with your best friend, whom you've known practically your whole life, is fine and dandy, assuming they know of and reciprocate your feelings. And also if they weren't seeing someone else. That was usually when most people would "get over it". But Mark _loved_ him, so much. It wasn't something he could get over. So he definitely couldn't forgive _her_ for taking his love away. It took all of his self control to keep from clawing her to bits whenever he saw her. It didn't matter whether she was with Seàn or by herself. She made Mark's blood boil, she had the nerve to steal _his_ Seàn, _his_ Senpai. So he wasn't shocked in the least bit when he snapped and threatened her. Seeing the fear on her face and in her eyes gave him such a delightful feeling. It was almost as if she was finally figuring things out, that she should damn well be afraid of him and that she didn't belong with _his_ Senpai. But then she had immediately tattled. And that delight took a dive into shame and sorrow. Now Senpai was mad at him. Despite not seeing the other man after the tattling happened he knew it. Why did Seàn have to care about her? Why couldn't Seàn see how much Mark loved him? Why couldn't he see that Mark just wanted to get rid of that...that _slut_. She could never love him the way Mark did. What could she give that Mark couldn't? He wanted her to die. He wanted to rip her tongue from her mouth and shove it down her throat. He wanted to watch as she choked on her tattling words and her filthy blood. But Seàn, his Seàn would know what happened if she coincidentally ended up dead after Mark threatened her. Mark knew his Senpai would come to the correct conclusion quickly, Seàn was such a smart cookie. So his only option was blackmail, because he was going to get rid of that _slut_ one way or another. But how could her coerce her to leave his Seàn alone without leaving any room for her to tattle again?

His plotting was interrupted by loud melodic words sung, echoing the pleasant memory through tiny speakers, Seàn had sung at a study session gone distracted the year before and ever since the recording had served as Mark's ringtone for the man. He swiped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear, the guilt and shame riling up his stomach like choppy sea waters. He knew Senpai was mad at him, through the static almost silence Mark could envision him; brows set and jaw tense in anger.

"Mark, we need to talk." The biracial man swallowed, trying to force down the knotting ball of nervousness. Normally he would be amazed at how the Irishman's voice could convey emotion and be caught up in envisioning the perfect man as if they were speaking face to face. But the tone scared him, especially since it was directed at him.

"Yes?" By some miracle his voice didn't crack under the boulder that seemed to be growing in his throat and pressing its crushing weight against his trachea. He could barely comprehend how he was still breathing, despite the choking pressure that kept building itself larger and larger, slowly asphyxiating the man via guilt and shame. But his mind was not pondering these things it was in a state of shock, Seàn wasn't just a little mad at him, he was furious. What made Mark's eyes sting however was the hint of betrayal in Seàn's voice, the one that Mark could tell he was trying to hide.

"Emily said you two... _talked_." Mark's eyes were watering now, and his lungs were screaming for air as he struggled to get it down. Seàn wasn't just furious, he was _disappointed_ , in Mark. The red haired man desperately wanted to apologize, he wanted to beg for forgiveness. But he couldn't open his mouth for the fear he'd sob. It didn't matter if he hated _her,_ he would honestly pull the moon out of the sky for her if it meant Seàn would forgive him. The quietly buzzing static on the other end was radiating with impatience, not with the fact that Mark wasn't taking, but with Mark himself. It hurt. So, so much. The boulder crushing down on his throat was nothing compared to the stabbing, twisting ache that had bloomed within his chest. Over the line Seàn continued to wait for Mark to confess. The artificial red-head could see the angered and betrayed scowl that Seàn was wearing, he could feel the irate and impatient tap of his foot on the floor. He had seen it before, but it had never been directed at _him_.

"I-" his voice cracked, "I... I-"

"Mark," Seàn's voice was calm, and Mark's lip trembled. _He was mad, he made Senpai mad, he disappointed Senpai, he made Senpai hate him,_ "Mark, can you please just tell me what happened?"

"I was so angry and-and she- I'm so sorry, I-I don't I-" he tried to take a deep breath, the air couldn't get past the boulder, a sob escaped his throat in the form of a small choking noise.

"Mark, are you-?" the anger wasn't there anymore, and the betrayal and disappointment took backseat to confusion and concern. Mark's eyes were swimming in salt water. He didn't remember letting them fall, only that his face was wet and that his eyes burned.

"I'm fine." His voice cracked, it was a lie, but then again when was that phrase ever used for truth?

"Please Mark, did you... did you threaten Emily?" Seàn asked gently, his voice patient, anger drained from it, leaving the hint of melancholic betrayal.

"I'm sorry, I-" the words had tied themselves into the boulder, asphyxiating him.

"Mark, did you threaten her?"

"...yes." Though it was a tiny whisper it weighed a ton, the word had escaped past his lips, forming a noose, tight around his neck.

"Why?" Seàn had finally found the question he couldn't answer. _Because she was going to take you away from me. Because I love you._

"I-I'm sorry," his nose was running now. _He was mad, he made Senpai mad, he made Senpai hate him..._

_I just wanted to be with you, to make you happy, and I ruined it..._

"Okay," his voice was calm, more on the concerned side of distraught. "Just, please... don't do it again." The Irishman's voice was soothing him now, the boulder chipping away at itself until it was just an uncomfortably large pebble. Even then Mark could tell that the green haired man wanted to say more, but he didn't. _Does he think that I'm not worth his words?_ a cruel little voice whispered in the back of his head.

"Cross my heart" _swear to die._ Seàn hung up. Mark sniffed, wiping the tears away forcefully with the heel of his palm. The rest of the day he spent procrastinating class work and sadly staring at a wall, attempting to keep the voices at bay, suppressing the urge to kill _her._ Now that Senpai knew about the little threats Mark was in a tough spot. After Seàn had hung up all sympathies for the bitch had blown out like a cheap match. She needed to go. She needed to stop taking _his_ Senpai away. She needed to stop turning _his_ Senpai on him. She needed to stay out of the way of their beautiful love. And the only way to guarantee she'd stay out of it is if he proved himself to be the better, or if she met her demise. But, if she was taken care of Seàn would suspect him. It might drive him away. It might make Seàn hate him. No. After that phone call Mark was certain, if Seàn thought Mark had hurt _her_ , Seàn would _loathe_ him. How could he take _her_ out of the picture? How could he prove that he loved Seàn so much more? How could he show Seàn that they were meant to be?

For an hour he thought up plans to prove his worthiness as boyfriend material and getting side-tracked into plans to kill _her_. But he'd sworn not to. And hiring a hit-man was not an option, he was a college student after all and he had enough to pay for already. His hands were quaking, he was holding the folding knife that he'd originally bought for self defense. He was oddly calm despite the chorus of voices screaming within his head.

K͋ͫͤͥ͂ͥͬ͝i̘ͭ͊́̈́̽l̤̺͉̼̯̩̘ͦl͗̅ͦͥ̀̀ ̹̥̤̰ͮͦͥ̌́ͬ̓ḫ̭ͪ̉̄͛ͧ̏e͙͉̘̪ͪ̓͋ͫ̃̋̏ͅr̙̤̪̳͎̬͒͒͂͑̐ͅ!̅̄͗̅̈́ͧͧ ͚̓K̯ͬͬͯi̫̠̯̩l̡̬̘̦̺̤ͮl̖̲̑̊!́͏̤̹̞̹ ͕̔̽͒͆B͗̐̿҉͓̹̙̻l̛̞̭͎̱̎̔ͣͭ͗͂̚o̩̱̟͉̺̥̹ͤ͌̈́ͧ͋͋ͭö͇̰̌̽̇ͩ̑d̯̳̫̪͜!̶͍̰͈̩̙̝̘̽͊̓͑̓̚ ̼͖̱͈̌ͬ͑ͯ̄ͧͅP͓͔r͕̭̗͓̹̤̙ͫͨ̍o̙͙̪ͥ͠v̜̑͒ͫ͆e̩͎̖͚͡ ̟̲̝̯̫̬̯̽iͥ̉̽̑̓̀̏͠t́̉͑ͥ͠!̦͎̇ͬ͢ ̻͔̺̮͚͇̪ͦͩ͢Ḿ̛͇̯͈ͮ͑y̭̟̝ͭ̽̏͛͢ ̧̜͚͎͚̺͍̪S̷̩̲͇̮̯͍̐̾̀́̔̒ͥe̽͒͐͟n̹̝̜̤͛͂ͭ̉͠p̴̬̬̪͇̟͂͒͐a̬͔̻͖͙̙͓̿͊̎̏ͧ̄͑ī̪̖̖͇̙̯ͧ!̧̮̝̩͕͉̪̝ͦ̿̈́͑ͩ ̰ͤ͗ͬͣ̿̔͛K̨̰͕ͅỉ̳̲̒̂͛l͒l̩̜̺̮̤̮̏̓̅̏!̝̟̭̤̮̻̭̌̈̒̒̎ͤ̌ ͌ͩ̐̇̉̍M̴̤̜̫̙͊̎̾ͦͦ͋a̠͊ͤͤ͒͊͜k̤̖̱̅ͦ̈́͗͛ͪ͞ē̵̘̟̠̌͂̿̔ ̡̼͍̞̱̼̟̆́ḥ͔̲̦̞ĩ̢̗̙̼͋̄̊͛͋m̷ͭ̓ͮ̎ ̴̻ͯ̈́̆̂l͓̭̼͔͠o̗̺͗͘v̴͔̪̎ē͎̩ͥ̌̌ ̞̼̐͐̅̊̔̍̀͜ͅu͔̞͉͕̅ͩͨ̉͂ͤͮ͞s͛̇̀͝!ͬ͂̅̈̌͐҉̪ ̃̽̾H͚̿͢e͏̥̩͈̥͈ ̴͈ͫ̾ͯ͆ͪẃ̘̩̩̤̤̩͐ͤi͔̦̗̾̌͆ͮ̏ͭ̚͟l̩̝̺̥̕ͅl͠ ̵̰̞̘l̻̥̠̮̫̂͒ȍ̝̹̳̪̭͍̩ͪ̃̓̈́ͬv̖̲͔̆e̹ͤ͛̈́ͣ͐ͨͮ͞ ̇҉̣̖͖̦̜̳̫u͗͋͑̐s͉̺̤̣͂͐̎̿!͔̟̞̞̦̖͉̍ ͙̘ͩH͕̣̠͕̫̝̜ͨͥͣ̍ͥe̳̻̰̓̃̈͑ͥ̎ͥͅ ͟h̦̗̲̣ͫ̃̐ā̘͙ͪ̾̓̑ͭ̚s͉̖̳͕͔̺̮̈͑̿ͭ̍ ͚̘͍̱̝̣̲́̀̎̈ͨţ͕͎̙̠̼̄ͤͅo̅͊ͨ̋ͯ͛͏̤!̗͓̜ͧͫ̔͒ͪ̅͞

Suddenly it was clear, he knew what he could give Senpai, how he could prove his love. How he could prove that _she_ didn't love **Senṕa̖͋͊͒̐i̪̥̻̐̈́̋͢** nearly as much as he did. The biracial man thanked the fact he didn't have a roommate. He set to work, slicing into his wrists and finger painting on the plain off-white wall. When that was done he tore open his shirt, setting to work on making himself beautiful. He was going to be _beautiful_ , so _beautiful_ for S̷̩̲͇̮̯͍̐̾̀́̔̒ͥe̽͒͐͟n̹̝̜̤͛͂ͭ̉͠p̴̬͂͒͐ai. The pain was only the intensity of his _love_ for Se̽͒͐͟n̹̝̜̤͛͂ͭ̉͠p̴̬̬̪͇̟͂͒͐a̿͊̎̏ī̪̖̖͇̙̯ͧ. The red dripping down was just his ever-flowing _love_. After a few final touches it was ready, he was ready. His fingers shook as he selected the correct speed dial. The number for S̷̩̲͇̮̯͍̐̾̀́̔̒ͥe̽͒͐͟n̹̝̜̤͛͂ͭ̉͠p̴̬̬̪͇̟͂͒͐a̬͔̻͖͙̙͓̿͊̎̏ͧ̄͑ī̪̖̖͇̙̯ͧ.

_What if S̷̩̲͇̮̯͍̐̾̀́̔̒ͥe̽͒͐͟n̹̝̜̤͛͂ͭ̉͠p̴̬̬̪͇̟͂͒͐a̬͔̻͖͙̙͓̿͊̎̏ͧ̄͑ī̪̖̖͇̙̯ͧ really hates me? What if S̷̩̲͇̮̯͍̐̾̀́̔̒ͥe̽͒͐͟n̹̝̜̤͛͂ͭ̉͠p̴̬̬̪͇̟͂͒͐a̬͔̻͖͙̙͓̿͊̎̏ͧ̄͑ī̪̖̖͇̙̯ͧ won't come? What if-?_

"Mark?" His voice brought tranquility like the shrill toll of a bell breaking the smothering silence.

"Hey, uh can you come over? I -uh- have something important I need to tell you." The biracial man spoke as he checked his reflection in the mirror. He ignored the extra blur in his vision and the dizzy light feeling in his head.

"Uh...Okay, I'll be there in a bit," the Irishman answered, sounding only a little suspicious, and awkward. Then he hung up. Mark would've been upset for the loss of connection except for the fact that it meant Seàn, his S̷̩̲͇̮̯͍̐̾̀́̔̒ͥe̽͒͐͟n̹̝̜̤͛͂ͭ̉͠p̴̬̬̪͇̟͂͒͐a̬͔̻͖͙̙͓̿͊̎̏ͧ̄͑ī̪̖̖͇̙̯ͧ, was on his way. They were going to be _beautiful_ together. Mark knew it with every fiber of his being.

13 minutes and maybe 43 seconds later there were two knocks on the door. Mark pulled it open, hiding behind it, bashful, as the beautiful green haired man shuffled in awkwardly, gazing down at his feet. He was probably still thinking of her. With a new burst of determination, Mark shut the door, leaning back against it a bit forcefully. Seàn's eyes snapped up to meet his. Mark had read so many crappy dime romance novels that featured blue eyes. He'd never thought them to be particularly beautiful, at least not any more so than the other colours. Until Seàn. His eyes were brilliantly blue and silver, like, like nothing Mark could put to words. They were beautiful. And his green and brown hair, it was Mark's fͤ҉͎̙̹̬̺͍ã̝̹̖̹̹̿v̒̌̓ͨ̈́͐͏̰̟̪̺̠͔o͔̳͙̤̥ͩ̒ͬ̏̾u͕͕̞̇ͦ̏̃ŕ̙̮̹̝̇̅͆i͊ͣt̖̣͈͓̉̒̑̏̽͋̃e̸̋̏ͭ̚ colour. And it looked so soft. He wanted to pet it all day, which is why he kept a bit that he'd snipped off in secret. And Seàn's huge expressive eyebrows, they were adorable. Finally his mouth, how he desperately wished to be pinned against a wall with that mouth on his. He wanted to taste those lips, he wanted them to claim him. But he'd have to persuade them first.

"So what-" Mark grabbed the front of the other man's shirt and pulled him close. Their mouths crashed together, he gently kissed, and he let Seàn pull away. "What are you doing?!" His vision swam, but his eyes didn't sting. "Mark! What..." this time Seàn cut himself off, staring at the darkening red blotches in Mark's shirt. Seàn didn't say a word as he gently dragged the light headed and bleeding man over to the bed. Mark plopped down without hesitation and shuffled so that he was laying on his back, pulling the other man on top of him. "Mark, what are you wearing?" The Irishman asked incredulously, just now noticing the short, black pleated skirt. Mark felt a happy blush rise to his cheeks.

"You like it?" He whispered with an adoring smile. But Seàn tried to ignore his flirting to instead see what was causing the stains in the his shirt. He couldn't help the hitch in his breath as Seàn slid lacy white, (and now also red) shirt up to expose his chest. Where Mark had carved his beautiful name, _Seàn_. Maybe later he could add property of over it. Seàn didn't look proud. _Why wasn't Ş͕̤̓̍̈ę̥̝n̶̳̝͌͒ͧ̌͐̊p̡͕̦͍ȧ͖͙͚̟̖ͮ͂ͭ͗̊͛i͒ͥ͊͡ proud? Couldn't he see I tried my best?_ His silver and blue eyes were wide, and his face paled.

"Mark? What did you do?" The green haired man asked, even though he perfectly well knew the answer. He was a smart cookie after all. Maybe he just didn't like it.

"Do you... not like it?" The redhead whispered, sorrow dripping into the words as they poured out past his lips. Seàn jerked away, and noticed the message. Mark had taken his time on it, making sure every letter was beautiful. Each perfect letter that spelt together: _I love you._ It was in his own blood to show his dedication and that his love was true. But Seàn wasn't smiling. _Why wasn't Ş͕̤̓̍̈ę̥̝n̶̳̝͌͒ͧ̌͐̊p̡͕̦͍ȧ͖͙͚̟̖ͮ͂ͭ͗̊͛i͒ͥ͊͡ smiling? Can't he see ̻͔̈ͯ́̈̆̅͋Į̖͎̻̥̝̅̄̓ͮͦ̋ ͍ͫ͆͆͆̇͋̚l̖̪̩̫͙̳̿o̪̼̲̦͘ͅͅvͮ͆ͮ͠ê͙̬͆͊̆̚ ̵̭̞̐h̯̻̟̣̄i͔̭̣͊͢m̡̜͙̪̙̮͍̠̊̀̾̍̑̍? Can't he see that I did this because ̻͔̈ͯ́̈̆̅͋Į̖͎̻̥̝̅̄̓ͮͦ̋ ͍ͫ͆͆͆̇͋̚l̖̪̩̫͙̳̿o̪̼̲̦͘ͅͅvͮ͆ͮ͠ê͙̬͆͊̆̚ ̵̭̞̐h̯̻̟̣̄i͔̭̣͊͢m̡̜͙̪̙̮͍̊̀̾̍̑̍? Is it not enough?_ The green haired man hurriedly turned and grabbed Mark's wrists which still bled freely. Mark felt a little lightheaded. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he gazed up at the other pair. _Was it not good enough? ͎̺̟̩͗̃͢A̛͚̱̘͚̺̬̥̎m̺͕̩̓͋͌́̿͐̆ ̖̼͎͙͎͇̪̐͛͋̔͘Î̧͐͂̇̓̂̀ ̶n̠̹͎͉̻̈́ͮ͗̽͆̉o̟͉̹̰ͩͯ̋̀ͯ̾t͔͌̒ ̦̙̱̿̃̾ͩ͢gͬ͑̑̍ͤ̆o̺ͣ̓ő͚̉d̙͈̭̻̲̲̈̉̽̓̔͂̇ ͓̯͓̗ͫ̀̋ͣe̦̝̜̣͖͔̟͟n̫̼ͨͣ͛ͪ͡ŏ̲͉̬̭̺̳̳̆̑͠ụ̝͇̥͔͝g͇̓ͤͫh̞̟͍͓͙̙?̭̈_

"Mark?" Fear was laced into the concern and confusion in his voice.

"Hold me, please," the man sniffed, his vision blurring again. He didn't know what pushed the request out but he would not take it back. Especially not since the other man actually complied, shuffling them both around and gently pulling him up into a tender embrace. It was amazing. He wouldn't trade it for anything. The Irishman cradled him, gently but firmly holding both of his hands on one side while he dialed a number on his phone in the other.

**N̅ͮ̊͊҉̳̙̬̤̭o̴̯͕͎̲̫͍̼͌ͣͥ͂ͅ!̼̂ͧ ͔̦̻͇͕̼͚̭ͤ̐͆͝Ň̢̗̩̲̦̙͙̳̑͡ö̶̞̲̥͇͉͖͕̩́ͫ͂͗́ͦ͆̒̕͜ ̵̷̭̯͉̪̬̬͔̤̐ͮͪ͛͐ͦͭ̄͞ṗ̟̺̟̪̦̈͂͂͌͟͞h̜̰̝͍͑ͨó̇͏̯̗̮ṅ̷̵̠͕̞͐ͩ̐̓̽̊ͭe̞̭̫̖͓̩̖̭ͭ̚!̯̺͈͖̀ͥͥ̾ ̱͎̹ͣ̚̕T̻̝͖̺͙͔̺͎̫̑̃̔ͨ̈́̍͌͞h̷̷͇̹̱̣̞͍̟̤̃ͦ̕ͅe͎͍̺͎̳̬̦̖ͦ͡y͖̘̱͈̅̍̅ͦͨ͒͑͑̚͘'̶̨̤̳̱͉̩̜͇̐̒̅ͨͨ̎ļ̻̜̬̜ͣ̌ͧ̀͐ͯ̈́̚ļ̝̖̈͒̃̓̽ ̥̱̈̿̌̓̃͑͗̾͡p̙̹̖̻̺̄ͦͧ̍̄͌̎͘u̵͓̪̼̳̠ͦ͆͂̌̈́ͥ͞ͅl̡͓̼̜̤̟͖̩͛ͪ̀͐ͭ̾̿ͧ͟l̸̩̮̟̰̤̣̝̗̏ͭ̃͢ ̨̛̛̣̲̦͔̙̺̐̅ͥ̉͊ͧ̆ͫu̸̫͐ͫ̋̂̎̌͗͟s̀̅̓͘҉͎ ͎̳̱̯͐͊̈́̉͛ͯ͗a̵̶̪̳͎̻͍̲͐̉͜p͖̩̺͕͉̺̀̓ͨ̓ͪ̚å̝̩̩̗͈͓̰̿͊ͯ̎͞r̥͙̯͚̉͊̓ͤͫ̈́̍tͭ̃̃͒͆͏̴̟͈̦̪̖̯ͅͅͅ!̉͂̌̓̇҉̘̫͢**

Mark whimpered. "Please don't." _They're going to take you away. I won't get to see you. Please don't. They'll take you away S̡͍͚̩̪͇e̗̘͔̳̹̜n͈͍̊ͭ͒͌ͥ͘p̗ͥ̽̋̉̅̂̀a̩͖ͨ̓͌i. They'll rip you away from me. And I'll have to ̺̥̥̮̐̿k̛̟͉̖̘̹͚͌i͔͉̩̤͓̾̋͂͗͋ͅl͋͊̔̊̏ͤ̂͏͚̣͈ḻ̨͈̮̽̉̋ them._

"Mark, you're hurt, you need help, please let me help." the Irishman's voice was what convinced him, it sounded so caring, so worried.

"Promise you'll stay with me?"

_Please. Ş͕̤̓̍̈ę̥̝n̶̳̝͌͒ͧ̌͐̊p̡͕̦͍ȧ͖͙͚̟̖ͮ͂ͭ͗̊͛i͒ͥ͊͡ ͂̈́̄̿͒I͖͙͍͎͌̔̂́ͨ̅̿ ̡̭̻̟̦͕͑͐͆͗ͮ͗l̾̋o͉̗̬͓̫ͬ̂̂̇͗͆̔v̠̬̣̔̑͑ͥ͂e̎͂̑̿̚̕ ̻̗͚̳͌̏ͤͫ̏̆̊y̸̗̠͈̭̍ͤo͢u̱̞̪̖ͫͯͦͧ̽ͫ Please. Seàn ͂̈́̄̿͒I͖͙͍͎͌̔̂́ͨ̅̿ ̡̭̻̟̦͕͑͐͆͗ͮ͗l̾̋o͉̗̬͓̫ͬ̂̂̇͗͆̔v̠̬̣̔̑͑ͥ͂e̎͂̑̿̚̕ ̻̗͚̳͌̏ͤͫ̏̆̊y̸̗̠͈̭̍ͤo͢u̱̞̪̖ͫͯͦͧ̽ͫ please. Please stay. Please hold me. I'd rather die in your arms than be away. I don't want them to take us apart. Silence. Ş͕̤̓̍̈ę̥̝n̶̳̝͌͒ͧ̌͐̊p̡͕̦͍ȧ͖͙͚̟̖ͮ͂ͭ͗̊͛i͒ͥ͊͡ didn't answer why didn't he answer? "If you're thinking of her, tell me, would she do this for you?" Would she? How is she so much better? Why can't you love me? Why can't you see that I'm so much better? Why can't you see that I just want to make you happy, Ş͕̤̓̍̈ę̥̝n̶̳̝͌͒ͧ̌͐̊p̡͕̦͍ȧ͖͙͚̟̖ͮ͂ͭ͗̊͛i͒ͥ͊͡?_

"No. I'm not thinkin' of Emily, and she'd never do this...but yesterday I'd never thought you would either..." _his Ş͕̤̓̍̈ę̥̝n̶̳̝͌͒ͧ̌͐̊p̡͕̦͍ȧ͖͙͚̟̖ͮ͂ͭ͗̊͛i͒ͥ͊͡_ muttered. _What was that supposed to mean?_

"But I love you," Mark said, turning his head to the side to plead with his gaze into the eyes of _his Ş͕̤̓̍̈ę̥̝n̶̳̝͌͒ͧ̌͐̊p̡͕̦͍ȧ͖͙͚̟̖ͮ͂ͭ͗̊͛i͒ͥ͊͡_. Mark's eyes were getting heavy and it was getting harder to pay attention to his surroundings, so he sighed contentedly, focusing on the lovely experience of being held by _his Ş͕̤̓̍̈ę̥̝n̶̳̝͌͒ͧ̌͐̊p̡͕̦͍ȧ͖͙͚̟̖ͮ͂ͭ͗̊͛i͒ͥ͊͡._ The last thing he remembered as he drifted away was whispering one last "I love you".


End file.
